Dean's Cancer
by Psycho33
Summary: How do Dean and Sam each cope when Dean has cancer? Wincest. First story, EVER. Constructive criticism is always welcome
1. Chapter 1

Dean was shivering cold in the bed laying next to Sam. His eyes hurt from any light and he was so exausted he barely had the strength to roll over towards the trashcan to vomit, which he had done 3 times in the past 10 minutes. He had just undergone his 4th Chemotherapy in as many weeks. This week was by far the worst yet. He couldn't get warm despite being ensconced in a thick down comforter and having Sam's warm body heat next to him. Sam felt helpless as he watched Dean suffer, knowing it was going to get worse over the next couple of days. That's the pattern that had evolved. At least he was able to get Dean home before the side effects started to overtake him.

"Sammy, you don't have to babysit me, go do something, grab a beer, talk a walk, exercise, something besides sit her watching me." Anger flashed in Sam's eyes, only for a second, when the fuck was Dean going to let him take care of him the way he took care of Sam. Things were different now, they were more then brothers they were lovers. Dean doted on Sam the last time he had a cold like it was pneumonia. This was worse...far worse;Dean had cancer. They were finally together, less then a year and Dean became deathly ill. It started as headaches, growing in severity until the last one, the one that brought them to the ER was the one that found the leukemia. Turned out the headaches were unrelated to the cancer, but the blood work they drew found it coincidentally. The ER doctor called it an unfortunate happy coincidence. Sam thought there was nothing happy about it.

Dean took it like a trooper, going to see the oncologist without even so much as a groan. He later told Sam he knew Sam wanted him to go, wanted him to fight for his life, and for him he would. He didn't want to unnecessarily worry Sam, he knew he was stressed enough with his diagnosis. So he followed dr.s orders and pushed Sam away. He kept him emotionally at arm's length. Sam knew Dean thought he was protecting Sam, preparing him to eventually live without him. Dean was scared, scared for Sam. Since they become lovers the intimacy between them had grown to levels that stunned him. He knew he couldn't live without Sam now that they were together. So if he drew back, Sam would get tough, learn to live without Dean, emotionally.

Of course he knew it was hurting Sam, but it was for his own good. Sammy being Sammy addressed the situation almost immediately. "Dean, I know you're trying to protect me, in case something happens to you, but it hurts me more for you to push me away while we are here with each other then the hurt I will feel if you die. You can't control an illness, you can control your behavior, and I'm telling you, I am not going anywhere. Not now, not when you are at your sickest, or when you are recovered. It's not happening."

It resonated with Dean, he got it and things changed. He let Sam in. Slowly. Dean had a problem revealing when he was in pain, or needed help. He didn't want to bother or worry Sam. The first week of chemotherapy Dean's side effects didn't kick in until 2 in the morning, a full 17 hours after his treatment. Him and Sam thought maybe he would be one of the few the Dr. mentioned have limited and/or very mild side effects from the chemotherapy.

At 2 am. Dean suddenly bolted from the bed into the bathroom, not completely making the toilet, mostly because he was intent on being quiet and not waking Sam, and slowly got out of bed, softly closed the door behind him, as well as the bathroom door to drown out any retching noises. He dropped to his knees, clutching the toilet for strength to get through the painful heaves that continued to rack his body. The tears were streaming down his face, first from the vomiting, then from the painful wretches that wouldn't stop after 25 minutes.

Sam woke and heard Dean, getting up immediately and going into the bathroom to check on Dean. He covered the vomit on the floor with a towel and took his place beside his brother, rubbing his back and whispering "I'm right here Dean, I'm not going anywhere."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The second week Dean held out for 8 hours before he felt like crap, with vomiting, chills, and a fever. It lasted for 3 days, and it got worse before it got better. The retching was so violent and constant that he popped a vessel in his left eye the second day. By the evening of the third day the vomiting and dry heaving had begun to slow down, along with the chills.

By the third treatment Sam was prepared for the side effects, having got black out curtains on the windows and two fleece blankets that were as soft as a baby's blanket. He picked up the protein drinks the Dr. recommended, bought a new trash can for next to the bed and two books for himself to read while he sat with Dean.

The symptoms hit him within in two hours. this time his fatigue was multiplied by 10. Sam practically carried Dean to the bedroom and helped him into some sweats, warm socks, and a hoodie. The vomiting was coming every 20 minutes or so and lasted a good 3 minutes straight. This time the chills were, at times, so severe his teeth chattered. Sam had been briefed by the Nurse Practitioner about the side effects, what to expect, the severity, and helpful techniques for care givers during treatment, but now it was happening and it was scary.

Sam would sit next to Dean, his hip touching his shoulder while he slept. He rubbed his back and put a cold compress on Dean's neck was the vomiting began, insisting that he use the trash can, and not run to the bathroom, as he could barely hold his head up. Dean didn't want to worry Sam and had tried to hide from him how bad his symptoms really were in the first couple of weeks, but this time around he was too weak to mask his misery.

By the fourth day Dean was feeling better, tired but no vomiting or chills. They spent the day snuggling under a blanket on the couch watching the Star Wars movies. Dean stole glances up at Sam as he was lying with his head in Sam's shoulder. "Sammy, thank you." Dean whispered.

"What? What are you thanking me for?" Sam looked at Dean honestly confused for his "confession" of thanks.

"Really Sammy? If it wasn't for you I would be lying in my own vomit somewhere alone. I know this isn't pretty and I feel like I got the long straw in this deal."

"Dean I would never let you be alone in this ever. And how in the hell did YOU get the long straw? YOU have fucking cancer!" Sam stated, looking at Dean as though he was loosing his mind.

"Sammy, I can't imagine how hard it must be to be on the other side of this thing. If I had to watch you be sick, and be powerless I would be hating on everyone and everything. I thank whoever or whatever that I am the one sick and not you everyday...for purely selfish reasons."

Sam stared at Dean intently thinking for a moment about how to reply. "Dean, I know you have a hard time processing this, but if I could, I would take this from you in a heartbeat. Don't you realize I would do anything for you? As you feel for me, I feel the same with you." he stated sadly. "When are you going to realize that you are as important to me, that I love you as much as you love me? That you are NOT expendable?"

"Sammy, I love you and there is nothing more important then you in this world. You are smarter, and kinder, more important to this world...I'm a grunt, and I need you more then you need me." Sam stared at Dean in frustration, anger, and wonderment. The literature on the chemotherapy stated that emotionally patients become more raw and vulnerable, and this was a side to Dean that was taking him by surprised. Sam always wanted Dean to talk about his emotions, always wanted to have heart to heart talks with him, but now that it was happening it was a little unnerving. Sam had always suspected that Dean felt this way but it was unsettling to hear his brother, his lover, his partner, say it out loud.

"Dean, nothing could be further from the truth!"

"Sammy, don't." Dean whispered tiredly. "It is my perception and my reality. I know that the chemo is making my walls come down and that's scary enough, don't try and hammer in your perception of my reality. I love you, there is no point in my life without you. Period."

"Dean, I" Sam started, but Dean quickly reached up and pulled Sam's face down and kissed him hard, having missed the physical contact from the past 4 days of being ill.

"Shut up Sammy and kiss me!" Dean rasped out, his voice thick with emotion and sexual tension. Very quickly Dean and Sam were rubbing their hands up and down each others bodies, enjoying the contact and melding their bodies into one. Sam was very careful to go slow and do most of the work as Dean was still weak, but wanting the connection. The love was apparent for both men, as they stared into each others eyes and held each other. Sam thought that this was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get...and he was okay with that.


End file.
